


Hale and Hearty

by what_alchemy



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Object Insertion, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 11:41:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1897662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_alchemy/pseuds/what_alchemy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1936, Steve is prescribed a set of Dr. Young's rectal dilators. For his health.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hale and Hearty

**1936**

It was a Friday, and Bucky’s blood was up. He had hauled crates all day, was covered in grime and stinging little nicks, and smelled of salt and garbage and rotting fish, but he still had a spark in his gut and a spring in his step. Even the other guys at the docks had noticed the past few weeks, and they’d taken to ribbing him about his new girl. 

“You lunks is just jealous,” Bucky would say, wide smile denying nothing.

“Barnes, ain’t nobody jealous of your bow-legged swagger,” Murphy would say. “I feel sorry for any poor dame makin’ time with your ugly mug.” Bucky would flip him the bird and wink. 

The truth was, the only person whose time Bucky coveted was the person he went home to every day. Steve, his best pal, the greatest guy he knew, had always been the thrum in his veins, ever since he was old enough to know what to do when his dick stood to attention. Bucky knew what that made him. He had vowed not to bring Steve low, not to corrupt him with the things he wanted — not to lose him by revealing them — but Steve, as usual, had more courage in one bony little finger than Bucky had in his whole body. A month ago, when Bucky had woken up once again with his hard-on pressed into Steve’s lush little ass and tried to ease away before Steve woke up, Steve reached back and locked his fingers around Bucky’s wrist to still him. Bucky’s heart had damn near thundered out of his chest, slamming so hard against his ribs that he was sure Steve could feel it, but Steve wriggled around to face him, eyes dark even by the light of the sun streaming in through the curtains, and pressed his mouth clumsy into Bucky’s. 

And now, at the end of his grind every day, Bucky got to return to Steve, got to breathe Steve deep and hold him tight and touch him just right to get that sound out of him, a high sort of grunting sigh that meant Bucky was treating him right, perfect, just how he liked. So it was with a paycheck in hand and a chorus of good-natured jeers at his back that Bucky bounded home with the intent of making Steve damn sure that Bucky was his. Again. 

But when he got back to the sagging tenement the two of them called home, he found Steve listing on their beat-up couch, deathly white with blotches of red staining his cheeks as he breathed quick and uneven. Bucky knelt in front of him and pushed the damp hair from his forehead, and for his troubles Steve raised glassy eyes to him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“Shush now,” Bucky said, “none of that.” He waited a moment with his palm pressed to Steve’s clammy brow before declaring there was no fever. He slid his hand down Steve’s neck and found his pulse thready and weak and far too fast. His own heart threatened to tumble right out of his mouth. “I’m calling Dr. Coleman.”

“Buck, no,” Steve said, because he always had to say it, those were the rules, but his protest was rote and lacked all fire. That was enough to make fear snake up Bucky’s spine like a toxin. He hauled Steve up into his arms, ignoring the way he must reek of the pier, ignoring Steve’s muffled complaints about the indignity of it, and installed him in the single bed they shared. 

“I’ll be ten minutes, tops,” Bucky said. “Do you want anything first, glass of water, bit of toast?”

Steve shook his head, mouth a perfect half moon arc of a scowl.

“Don’t be sore at me,” Bucky said. He gentled the words with a pass of his lips over Steve’s forehead. He smoothed Steve’s hair into some semblance of order and stood up straight when he was done. Steve was a small shape in the bedding, making himself smaller with hunched shoulders and curled spine. It made Bucky want to be tender at him, made him want to gather him close, closest, consume him until they were a single body that no ailment could touch. 

“I’ll be right back,” Bucky said, and he left the apartment as if there were wings on his heels.

The deli two blocks down had a telephone and a soft spot for Steve, so when Bucky arrived in the doorway panting, Mrs. Emerling only clutched at her own chest and hustled him behind the counter and into the back room, no questions asked.

“It’s Steve Rogers, ma’am,” Bucky said when the receptionist at Dr. Coleman’s picked up. “No fever, but he’s sweating something fierce and he can’t catch his breath. Heartbeat’s too quick, too.” _I’m scared_ didn’t come pouring out, but it was a near thing.

“All right, Mr. Barnes,” the receptionist, a spinster named Miss Davidson, said. She loved propriety and was always calling people by their proper titles, even piss-poor little upstarts like Bucky. “Now, Dr. Coleman’s out on family business for the week, but I’ll send his replacement straight to you. Are you still in that building on Nassau?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky said. “Thank you.”

“You hang in there, Mr. Barnes.”

“Wait, Miss Davidson?”

“Yes, Mr. Barnes?”

“Is the new doctor — um, do you think he can help Steve as good as Dr. Coleman?” Dr. Coleman never tutted at Steve, or expressed impatience at his various conditions, and he never, ever said Steve’s illnesses were in his head. Dr. Coleman was the only doctor Bucky trusted to treat Steve right.

“Don’t you worry, Mr. Barnes,” Miss Davidson said. “Everything Dr. Coleman knows, he learned from Dr. Fabinger.”

—

Back at the apartment, Bucky forced Steve to take some water and toast, and he rummaged in the emergency jar in the closet for the money to pay for this visit. He had been hoping to take Steve out a little this weekend, maybe Coney Island or something, but now it looked like this paycheck wasn’t going to have any stretching power between food and next month’s rent and the obligatory donation to the jar.

After a quick shower, Bucky climbed into bed beside Steve and rubbed his back while they waited for Dr. Fabinger.

“Sorry, Buck,” Steve said again, words slurring some. Bucky swallowed and hitched him closer into his chest, chin in his hair, hands firm on the delicate bones in Steve’s back. 

“Got nothing to be sorry for, punk,” he said, gruff. “Get you right as rain in no time, and then I’ll be back to tearing my hair out about how to drag you out of the fights you start.”

“Was gonna take you out for burgers,” Steve said, voice faint and muffled into Bucky’s neck. Bucky’s ribs tightened and he sifted Steve’s hair through his fingers. They looked big and stupid amid the spun gold softness there, and he kept his touch light and gentle. “Prob’ly lose my job, now. Prob’ly, prob’ly can’t afford…”

“Shh,” Bucky murmured. “Worryin’s my job, all right? You just sit tight.”

“I just wanna treat you right.”

“You do, Stevie.”

“You deserve it, you know. Deserve better’n the likes of me.”

Bucky shifted enough to look Steve in the eye. They were bright and a little unfocused, which sent Bucky’s stomach flipping, but he gripped Steve firmly with both hands on his skull and said, “There ain’t nothing on God’s green earth better than you, Steve Rogers, and I thank the big man in the sky every day you decide you like me enough to keep me around. You don’t get to talk like that, insultin’ my good luck.”

The pretty fan of Steve’s lashes fluttered as his eyes slid shut. He buried his face in Bucky’s chest, and Bucky swallowed past the gathering thickness in his throat.

“When you get better,” Bucky said, stroking up and down Steve’s back, “I’m gonna take you out for a steak dinner, and we’ll buy new suits to go dancin’, and everyone will be so jealous I got the best looker in Brooklyn on my arm.”

Steve snorted, and Bucky closed his eyes as he spun the lie further, heart aching all the while.

—

When Dr. Fabinger arrived, Bucky was surprised to find a man who was probably old enough to be his grandpa’s grandpa carrying the biggest medical bag Bucky had ever seen.

“Here, let me take that for you,” Bucky said as he wrested the bag from Dr. Fabinger’s hands. It was about as heavy as two crates at the docks, but Bucky couldn’t spare a moment to be impressed about a man as old as Dr. Fabinger carrying something like that up four flights of stairs. “Thanks so much for coming, doctor. Me and Steve, we really appreciate it.”

The doctor smiled serenely at him, brown eyes magnified behind thick glasses, and patted him on the cheek with wizened fingers.

“You’re a good boy,” he said, “I can tell.”

Bucky smiled gratefully back and led him through to the bedroom, where Steve was languishing in the nest of flattened pillows Bucky had fluffed up around him.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” Dr. Fabinger said. He bustled to the bedside — more lumbered, really, bones creaking, but Bucky could tell the hustle was there in spirit if not practice — and picked up Steve’s wrist to lay two fingers against a pulse point. “How long has he been like this?”

“I got home about three and he was already like this,” Bucky said. “Don’t know how long before that. There’s no fever, but he has a history of asthma and a heart condition and some nervous disorders.” Bucky hovered over Dr. Fabinger’s shoulder, trying not to crowd him but failing. Dr. Fabinger didn’t seem to mind. Steve blinked up at him and tried a smile. Bucky forced himself to smile back. 

“Steven?” Dr. Fabinger said, and Steve turned his attentions, fuzzy as they were, to Dr. Fabinger. “Steven, can you tell me when this ailment befell you? A time of day, a meal, anything?”

“Woke up dizzy,” Steve said, quiet, and Bucky ground his teeth. He made a note to get a promise out of Steve to tell Bucky whenever he felt bad in the future. “But I was fine until after lunch. Just took me all of a sudden, and I had to lie down. And then Bucky came home.”

Dr. Fabinger was nodding as he dropped Steve’s hand and turned to rummage in his gigantic medical bag. He took out a box that said DR YOUNG’S on it and set it aside before taking out a stethoscope. Bucky held his breath as Dr. Fabinger listened to Steve’s heart for a long time, and then different spots on his belly. Dr. Fabinger then gestured at him to help sit Steve up, and Bucky held him upright as Dr. Fabinger pressed the stethoscope to his back and told him to breathe deep through his nose, hold it, and exhale slowly. He listened and listened and Bucky tried to quiet his heart in case it was too loud. Finally, Dr. Fabinger nodded and yanked the stethoscope from his ears. 

“Thank you, young man,” he said to Bucky. “You’ve been a great help and a great friend, but now I must ask you to leave the room while I discuss treatment with Steven.”

“Can he stay?” Steve said. “Please?”

Dr. Fabinger raised his eyebrows and looked at Bucky. Bucky tried to look more like a great help and a great friend than a fella fretting over his sweetheart, and he must have succeeded because Dr. Fabinger turned back to Steve and patted him heavily on the shoulder.

“Friends are good to have, son,” he said. “You are a very lucky young man.”

“I know,” Steve said, and smiled. 

“Now, I want you to pay attention, because this is important.” 

Bucky helped Steve sit up against the pillows as Dr. Fabinger fetched the box labeled DR. YOUNG’S and placed it in Steve’s lap.

“You must take plenty of fluids and eat some red meat.” Now he lifted his head to meet Bucky’s eyes. “I know we are all pinching our pennies, son, but it’s very important Steven gets some iron, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky said. He might even be able to make it to the butcher’s tonight before he closed up shop for the evening. The emergency fund wouldn’t get its donation this week, but that’s what the emergency fund was for.

“Now this,” Dr. Fabinger said, tapping the box, “is for continued health and nervous disorders of all sorts. I think you’ll find it will improve all manner of your body’s systems.” He flipped the lid open to reveal four black rocket-looking things made of Bakelite that flared out in graduating sizes from rather small to rather large. On the inside of the lid were instructions for their use as well as what they were called: rectal dilators. They proclaimed themselves a miracle cure for piles and constipation. Bucky suddenly went hot on the back of his neck and snuck a glance at Steve, who was already turning a dull, mottled red all over. 

“I — I, um, don’t have piles, or, or—”

“That’s all right,” Dr. Fabinger said soothingly. “This is for whole body health balance, including anemia and restless sleep. I think you’ll find after regular use, you will be more hale and hearty than ever.” He jostled Bucky with a gentle elbow and sent Steve a wink. “Like your friend here,” he said. “I bet you drive the young ladies wild, don’t you son?”

Bucky cleared his throat and forced a smile.

“I do all right, sir,” he said.

This made Dr. Fabinger laugh. He patted Steve on the knee and said, “Now you read those instructions thoroughly and follow them to the letter, young man, right to the letter. We’ll have you up and rivaling Mr. Barnes in the dance halls in no time.” 

With that, he closed his medical bag up and told Bucky he’d let himself out.

“Your payment,” Bucky said, and Dr. Fabinger waved him away.

“I will bill you in the mail,” he said. “Use your money to get him some red meat tonight, Mr. Barnes. There’s a good boy.”

And then he lumbering out, and Steve was blinking down at the dilators when Bucky rounded back on the bed.

“Bodies are mighty strange, Buck,” he said solemnly. “Oh, Lord, read the instructions.”

Bucky leaned in and squinted. The print was small and smudged, but he could just about make it out.

“‘First warm dilator in warm water,’” Bucky read aloud, “‘then lubricate outside of dilator with Dr Young’s Piloment, (or if it is not available, with Vaseline) and while in a squatting position—or while lying on the side with knees drawn up—gently insert in the rectum as far as the flange or rim. Hold in place a minute and the anal muscles will hold and retain it. Sit or lie down and allow it to remain for half an hour or an hour to get the best results. Ten minutes will accomplish much. When ready to go on to the next larger size, it is best first to use for a few minutes the same size you have been using, inserting and withdrawing it a few times.’”

By the time he was done, Steve was hiding his face behind his hands, but Bucky could see the tips of his ears were a burning red. Bucky himself was just about the burst into flames. Just last week, he and Steve had ventured to explore the exact region in question, and they’d both gone wild with it. Bucky just about burst all over himself when Steve let him lick into his asshole and put a finger inside him, and for his own part Steve seemed to lose his mind when Bucky so much as breathed near his hole. Bucky wanted so badly to put his cock inside Steve, and he thought maybe he’d be able to soon, since Steve asked for another finger every time they did it, even when the fit was so tight it didn’t seem possible, even when it looked like it should be hurting him. But he got so delirious with desire and he begged so, so nice. So far, Bucky’d been able to get three inside him and loosen him further with his tongue around the rim, until he crooked his fingers just so and Steve came screaming into his pillow. Bucky thought if he could just get one more in, maybe, _maybe_ Steve would be amenable to Bucky easing his dick inside. 

“I don’t think I can do it, Buck,” Steve said, and Bucky blinked from his reverie. He was ashamed to find himself three-quarters of the way to a rager in his pants just thinking about being inside Steve. “It would just be — I don’t know, too much like… you know. How can that help with bein’ sick?”

Bucky shrugged and cleared his throat. He angled himself in such a way as to hide his hard on. This was no time to bother Steve with his libido. 

“You heard the doctor, Steve. Reckon he knows what he’s talkin’ about’n all. I can, um. I can help you, if you want. No funny business, just…for the treatment.”

Steve shook his head too quickly.

“No, that’s — thanks, Buck, but I can do it myself. It’s not — what if something, you know, comes out? I’d hate that. I’d hate for you to see that, Buck, I couldn’t stand it.”

“I don’t mind,” Bucky said. “That’s what that whole thing’s for, anyway, right? We all do it, and it’s bound to come up sooner or later, since we’re gonna be together forever and all.”

Steve blinked big eyes at him, and Bucky ducked his head, face heating. He hadn’t meant to say anything like that, preferably ever, but especially not so soon after the two of them had gotten their act together.

“You mean it?”

“I just want you to get better,” Bucky said hastily. “I want you to be — as healthy as me, like the doc said.”

Steve smiled at him, and he was beautiful even pale and sweaty, but the smile was sad anyway.

“If wishes were horses, Buck.”

“It’ll work. You heard him.”

“Yeah.”

Bucky swallowed, and silence inserted itself awkwardly between them. 

“Well, hey,” Bucky said. “If you don’t want me to help or watch, why don’t you do it while I go get us some meat from the butcher?”

The corners of Steve’s mouth turned up in a close approximation of a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Thanks, Buck.”

Bucky reached out to smooth Steve’s hair down.

“You’re my best guy forever, right?” Bucky said. 

“Forever and ever,” Steve said. His smile warmed, became true. Bucky pressed his lips to the crown of Steve’s head, and Steve’s arms crept up to lock around Bucky’s waist, and they stayed like that a long time.

—

**1937**

Steve and Bucky were packing up to move to a better apartment when a dusty box came tumbling out of the closet and spilled all over Bucky’s head.

“Jesus Christ,” he said, and shook himself. On the floor rolling around his knees were a jar of Vaseline and a set of four Bakelite rockets, each bigger than the last. Bucky’s eyebrows shot up — he hadn’t thought of these in a year, and he picked them up now to put them back in the box. They were surprisingly heavy, and the heft of them in his hand made his mouth curl to consider the possibilities. The last year had been quite a revelation between learning that he could, in fact, put his dick inside Steve, and that they could do a bunch of other things, too, like fuck with their thighs or suck each other off at the same time, or jerk each other off in discreet places, or that Bucky, too, maybe liked a finger or two inside him while Steve sucked his cock. He was suddenly imagining these dilator things — the biggest, widest, longest one especially — plugging Steve up, making him squirm and moan like he did, quiet so the neighbors wouldn’t hear, but audible enough to drive Bucky up the wall. He imagined putting these in Steve’s asshole after licking him out clean and thorough. He imagined Steve bouncing around on the column of a dilator as he slurped around Bucky’s cock. He was suddenly, achingly, blindingly hard, and he snapped the box shut to leave the closet and find Steve.

Then he paused and considered the smallest rocket in the box. Before he could lose his nerve, he shucked his pants, got on the bed and slicked one of his own fingers up. He put it inside his ass and stretched slowly, until there was no burn and only the slow beat of wanting remained of it. He spread some Vaseline on the smallest dilator and pushed it gently inside himself. His asshole contracted around the intrusion, but it felt good, a gentle stretch that bumped ever so slightly against the spot inside him that he liked Steve to stroke. He screwed his eyes up and breathed through it, then got up and slung the box under his arm. Walking with the dilator in made his cheeks burn, but finding Steve would be better. 

Steve was on his hands and knees in the kitchen, cleaning out the space beneath the sink. It was summer time, and he was wearing nothing but his cotton underwear. His little ass, the only lush and fleshy thing on his dear bony body, was bobbing up and down with the effort of scrubbing under there. Bucky palmed at his hard on through his own shorts and knelt behind him.

“Steve,” he said, low so as not to startle him. Steve jumped a little anyway. Bucky set the box down and put his hands on Steve’s hips. 

“What—”

“Shh. Don’t turn around, okay?”

“Buck…”

Bucky pushed himself up against Steve’s ass and Steve whimpered and pushed back. Bucky leaned down and bit lightly at Steve’s shoulders and down his spine.

“We gotta pack up,” Steve said, but the protest was weak, especially with Steve rocking his ass back into the hard line of Bucky’s cock. 

“We got time,” Bucky said. He pulled Steve’s hips until he slid out from underneath the sink, but he molded himself to Steve’s back so he wouldn’t get any ideas about changing positions. He scraped his teeth down Steve’s back until he got to the waistband of his shorts, and then he pulled them down over the pale handfuls of Steve’s ass, until his flushed sac was visible. Bucky cupped the cheeks of Steve’s ass and kneaded them lightly before pulling them apart to reveal Steve’s asshole, a dusky, gorgeous pink, humid with fresh sweat. The lock of golden hair just above it was damp and lovely, and Bucky sighed with a desperate, aroused relief to set his nose there and lave his tongue over the winking hole. Steve made a strangled sound, the telltale choke of smothering his moans, and pushed back into Bucky’s mouth. He smelled deep and musky here, like himself but with darker, spicier notes that made sparks go off in Bucky’s balls. Bucky gripped him by the muscles of his ass and snaked his tongue in deeper, sealed his lips over the rim and sucked until Steve threw his head back and gasped. Someday, Bucky would make enough money for them to have their own place with thicker walls, and he’d get to hear exactly what Steve sounded like when he let himself go. He’d know exactly what Steve felt when Bucky took him apart from the inside out. 

Bucky ate Steve’s asshole with zeal, but he had to pull back when Steve hand on his own cock started yanking hard and erratic.

“Don’t stop,” Steve said, voice like whiplash. “What are you doing to me, Buck? Let me come, please, please.”

“Got a surprise,” Bucky said. He rubbed two fingertips over Steve’s asshole, which was slack and gave easily, and he smirked at the picture Steve made. He flipped open the box and got out the Vaseline. He put a thin layer on Steve’s hole, and Steve sighed happily at the touch. Then, Bucky picked up the second-biggest Bakelite rocket and spread a generous dollop of Vaseline over it before he snubbed the tapered head of it against Steve’s ass.

Steve twitched and craned his head around. 

“Bucky—”

Bucky put his clean hand on Steve’s back and stroked down his spine.

“I’m thinking you need some of Dr. Young’s treatment today, Steve.”

“Oh, _God_ ,” Steve said, head dropping. 

“This’ll fix you right up, promise.”

Steve laughed a little and bore down. The dilator slid inside easily after one firm push, and then it was all the way in up to the flange. 

“You know, I could only ever think of one use for these things,” Steve said, breathless.

“Yeah? Good health and good cheer?”

“More of the second than the first, I think,” Steve said, and rocked back. Bucky took hold of the flared base and wriggled it some before easing it out and earning himself a grunt from Steve. Then he slid it right back in.

“ _God_ ,” Steve said. “God, they’re hard. They’re too damn hard, no give at all, but, _God_ , Buck.”

Bucky fucked him slow and steady with the dilator.

“You like it?” he asked. “Feel good?”

“You know it does,” Steve said. “You know damn well.”

“These got you ready for me, didn’t they? Way back when. Trained you how to take a nice big cock.”

“Buck, I been ready for you since the first day I got a hard on.”

“Anyone ever tell you you got a dirty mouth, Rogers?”

“Suspect you’re the only one who knows, jerk.”

Bucky hauled Steve up with a fist in his hair and wrenched him around enough to plunder his mouth. He swallowed up the moan Steve let out and issued one of his own when Steve’s hand tangled in his hair and gave it a yank.

“Put your dick in me, Barnes,” Steve growled. It never failed to tighten Bucky’s balls up when Steve’s voice got low and rumbly, never failed to shoot straight through his stomach and make him want to give Steve everything he’d ever wanted and more. 

Bucky flipped Steve over onto his back right there on the kitchen floor and hauled his knees up to hook over Bucky’s shoulders. Steve’s face was a perfect picture of debauchery — his color high, his red mouth slick and half open, his eyes half closed and his hair in disarray. He was the most beautiful thing Bucky had ever seen. 

“You,” he said.

“Do it,” Steve said.

Bucky took hold of the dilator and eased it out. He wiped it on the head of his cock, threw it carelessly over his shoulder where it landed on the floor with an inelegant clunk, and drove his cock into Steve’s body with a single thrust. Steve’s eyes rolled back and he arched off the ground with a soundless moan. Bucky braced himself as he slid inside the velvet hot grip of Steve’s ass, forced himself to keep his eyes open so he could see Steve becoming, once again, something that belonged to Bucky alone. He hoped Steve knew that Bucky belonged to him in turn. 

He pushed all the way in, until he was flush against the modest little swells of Steve’s ass and Steve could open his eyes again. He leaned down and kissed him, soft and chaste. He set their foreheads together and felt the sweep of Steve’s lashes against his own when they closed their eyes.

“Nothin’ better than this, Stevie,” he said. “Love this.”

Steve’s hands were stroking up Bucky’s arms, over his shoulders, into his hair. 

“Nothing ever,” Steve said. He cupped the back of Bucky’s head and nudged his mouth until they were kissing, hot and long, and Bucky began to thrust in deep, steady rolls of his hips. Steve was tight and hot all around him, inside but outside too, his arms deceptively strong around Bucky’s back and he held him through their fuck. Bucky buried his face in Steve’s neck, where he smelled the most deliciously like himself, and his thrusts grew harder and longer. He shoved a hand between them and wrapped it around Steve’s dick, which earned him a shudder and a strangled groan.

It didn’t take long for Steve to start spasming around Bucky’s cock, and Bucky knew it was coming He drew back so he could piston hard against that spot inside Steve and jerk his dick harder, and so he could watch Steve fall apart all around him. Steve stiffened up and his mouth opened wide even as his eyes squeezed shut, and Bucky stilled inside him but kept up the pace of his hand, and then Steve was spurting all over him, dick pulsing out a goddamned geyser of come. Steve slumped, his legs sliding off Bucky’s shoulders, and twitched through the aftershocks. His eyes were black through the slit of his eyelids, and his mouth curled in a filthy little smile just for Bucky.

Bucky whimpered and pushed one of Steve’s legs back up with his come-slick hand. His eyes never leaving Steve’s, he began drilling Steve’s ass in earnest. When Steve scraped through his dusting of chest hair and raked his nails down Bucky’s nipples, the first tendrils of orgasm began gathering around Bucky’s spine. Then Steve ran his fingers through his own come and pushed it into Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky sucked greedily, eyes threatening to close.

“Come on, Buck,” Steve whispered. “I wanna feel you come in me.” And then he squeezed his ass tight around Bucky’s cock, and Bucky was done for. His eyes closed, he couldn’t help it, and stars burst behind his lids as the climax rushed through him. He slammed into Steve’s body, the dilator inside his own pushing insistently into the walls of his ass and making everything sharper and brighter. He was dimly aware of Steve murmuring into his ear, Steve stroking down his back, Steve laying kisses into the side of his face and telling him beautiful, obscene things.

When he came back to himself, he was on his back next to Steve, who was curled around him and running his hands through Bucky’s chest hair. The dilator in him had gone uncomfortable, and he sat up and twisted to take it out. Steve raised his one eyebrow, and Bucky valiantly held back a blush.

“Yeah?” Steve said.

“Yeah,” Bucky said with a nervy little shrug. Steve looked like he was holding back a smile. Bucky lobbed the dilator into the sink, but he scooted down and lifted one of Steve’s legs up to pry one cheek apart from the other.

“Hey!”

“Just lemme look.”

Steve grumbled but submitted to Bucky’s scrutiny. His hole was red and sore, and Bucky’s semen seeped out from inside slowly. He pushed it back in and Steve squeaked. Bucky’s dick gave a hopeful twitch and he put two fingers in. He was loose and wet and Bucky moaned.

“Buck…”

“You have no idea how this looks, Steve. Makes me want to fuck you again.”

Steve sighed and tilted is ass back into the attention.

“Put the dilator back in me,” he said. 

“What?”

“Put it back in so I don’t leak.”

“Jesus fuck, Stevie.”

Bucky got up and walked on wobbling legs to where he’d thrown Steve’s dilator. He washed it off in the sink as Steve watched, two fingers in his ass holding himself open. Bucky lay down on his side behind him, and Steve took his fingers out and laid his head on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky worked the dilator back into Steve’s ass as Steve sagged boneless against him. When it was fully seated, Steve turned around to face him. Bucky kissed him, and Steve wound his arms around his neck, plastering his body to Bucky’s.

“Next time,” Steve said, voice a low vibration that hit Bucky low in his gut, “ _I’m_ gonna fuck _you_ , and you’re gonna see what you been missing all damn year.”

Bucky shuddered and pulled Steve on top of him. 

“You know,” he said. “I think that that Dr. Young was on to something.”

“Hmph.”

“I feel more hale and hearty already.”

“All those things cured was my case of blue balls.”

“Hey, when did you have blue balls? I been seeing to them for a long time now.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t stick your dick in me for _months_ ,” Steve said. “I had to beg and _beg._ Took to using those on myself while you were at work.”

Bucky pushed his fingers into Steve’s mouth, and his dick began to fill again at the swirl of Steve’s tongue.

“Didn’t want to hurt you, is all.” 

Steve’s eyes were sparkly and happy. Bucky’s heart swelled. 

“Yeah, well,” Steve said, dropping Bucky’s fingers. “That’s how I knew you were a keeper.”

“You, uh. You gonna be as nice to me?”

In answer, Steve only stroked his thumbs over Bucky’s cheekbones and pressed his lips to Bucky’s like a promise.

—

**2015**

It took Bucky about a month of unfettered internet access to find the sex toy websites, but to be fair, he had been really distracted by baby animal videos and arguments on Captain America forums. 

There were about a million toys he had no idea what to do with. Eggs? Fleshlights? Sqweels? He clicked and clicked and clicked through, sometimes pausing to marvel at the beauty and craftsmanship of blown-glass dildos, but nothing struck him as particularly _titillating_ until he stumbled across a page for anal plugs.

He felt his eyebrows rise of their own volition even as he leaned in closer to the screen. There were loads of them, from tiny to _hell the fuck no_ , from straightforward tapers to complicated curls. Some even had graduated bulbs, some vibrated, and some had attachments for God only knew what. As Bucky scrolled and scrolled and scrolled, his cock filled slowly, and he squirmed against the seat of his chair. 

Finally, he came across a pretty simple one on the bigger side of still manageable, purple with optional vibration, and he clicked “add to cart.” He twiddled his fingers over the keyboard before inputting his credit card information from memory and clicking “rush delivery.” Before he finalized the order, he minimized the browser and rolled his chair out enough to see into the kitchen, where Steve was banging around trying to bake something.

Steve was as sweet and commanding in bed as he had ever been, ninety-five pounds or two hundred and fifty. He still looked at Bucky as if he’d won the lottery. He was still the only person Bucky could imagine being intimate with, being vulnerable with. He still wanted to hold Steve’s hand until they were withered old men with a lifetime of happiness behind them. 

Steve looked up from whatever he was mixing and his face cracked into a bright grin. Bucky smiled back.

He rolled back to the computer and ordered the plug, feeling jittery. He closed his eyes and imagined them as they once were: two poor boys rich in company and love. The smaller one, delicate and fragile with the heart of a lion, and the bigger one, the picture of health but so breakable inside. How they complemented each other. How they filled in the empty spaces and learned to fit without even trying. 

How lucky they were.

Bucky opened up an incognito window for discreet browsing. He knew it was quick so soon after getting back together with Steve — if you could call anything eighty years in the making “quick” — but it seemed to him that he’d never been wrong about his feelings for Steve. He wasn’t about to start being shy about it.

Into the Google search bar, he typed _men’s wedding rings, not ugly_.

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, [they were a real thing.](http://thequackdoctor.com/index.php/dr-youngs-rectal-dilators/) Yesterday I thought to myself, is there a better way to celebrate Steve's birthday than with vintage quack medical devices used as sex toys? No. No there isn't.


End file.
